


Risk

by Enchant



Category: Dragon Age II
Genre: Actually It's Just Dares, Ball Gag, F/F, F/M, Kissing, Oral Sex, Rope Bondage, Truth or Dare, Wet Panties
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-11-13
Updated: 2014-11-13
Packaged: 2018-02-25 06:45:30
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,476
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2612183
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Enchant/pseuds/Enchant
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Hawke never takes any risks, Isabela suggests a little game to change that. They get three dares each... </p><p>A fun little gift for Sassywolf23!</p>
            </blockquote>





	Risk

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Sassywolf23](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Sassywolf23/gifts).



> Thank you so much Sassywolf23 for reviewing Sacrifices and being awesome! Hope you like this :P
> 
> And thank you Shadowfire RavenPhoenix for helping me beta this, and to Vaffelhjerte for giving it a read through too! Love you all.

 

“You _never_ take any risks, sweet thing.”

Hawke snorted. “Don’t be absurd. I’m sure I take risks _multiple_ times a day…”

Isabela gave her a sweet little smile, shaking her head slightly. “Not a one. You always play it safe, staying back out of danger, protecting yourself and everyone else with your magic.”

“Would you prefer I not use my magic and just stand there instead, then?” Hawke snarked, holding her untouched mug of ale. “Perhaps I can shout the enemies into going home instead of fighting us? I could sing the Chant of Light at them! Sebastian might like that, Merrill too, actually; she thinks it sounds pretty. Not sure Anders would approve though, Justice might rear his ugly head and then, of course, Fenris will get in a tizzy about _abominations_ losing control again…”

Isabela chuckled into her drink. “Of course not, kitten. That wouldn’t be any fun, now would it?” She finished off her drink and signalled for Corf to bring over another; she glanced at the still full mug Hawke was nursing and scoffed. “ _That_ is exactly what I mean by you don’t take any risks.”

Hawke frowned. “What?”

“You haven’t drunk _anything_ , pet.”

“Just because I’m not like a fish out of water guzzling down anything I can get my hands on does not mean I don’t take _risks_ , Bela.”

The pirate laughed. “Fine, fine.” Then, Isabela gave Hawke a sly look. “Since you’re such a _risk taker_ , Hawke, then I’m sure you won’t mind playing a little game with me,” she said sweetly, those impossibly brown eyes flashing innocently at her. Hawke could feel her stomach tighten; nothing good ever followed that kind of look. She was in too deep now to escape, though.

“What kind of game?” she asked hesitantly.

Isabela grinned in that annoyingly roguish way that made Hawke’s stomach flutter. “Truth or dare. Except you can’t pick truth,” Isabela said with a girlish giggle.

“So, a game of dare or _dare_?” Hawke asked, her eyebrow thoroughly arched; Fenris would be proud.

Isabela shrugged a shoulder. “Well, if you’re too worried about the _risks_ involved then we can just go upstairs and snuggle up by the fire like we do _every_ night.”

Hawke smirked. “Suddenly bored of snuggling up by the fire, are we, Bela?” she said, finally finding a way to turn this on the pirate. “Well, we don’t have to do that anymore. We can stop the sex too, if you prefer, I’m sure that’s not _risky_ enough for you anyway.”

Isabela snorted. “Now hold on a minute! I never said _that_ ,” she laughed. “Although… it wouldn’t _hurt_ to liven things up a bit now and again…”

Hawke had been afraid of this ever since she had let the pirate into her bed the first time. Neither of them wanted a relationship. Hawke wasn’t willing to become so emotionally involved with anyone… it was too…. She frowned slightly – she did not want to use the word _risky_ but that was essentially the gist of it. Who could blame a girl for not wanting to have her heart broken…again? And really, after she had taken the risk with the Deep Roads expedition only to lose her brother to the taint… _risks_ were not things she took idly these days, the scar she still had from her duel with the Arishok was another prime example of why _risks_ were bad news – that brute had nearly _skewered_ her like a piece of prime cut meat! And all because she had foolishly accepted the duel – she had thought her magic was strong enough to protect herself while taking him down, instead she had spent most of it running around the Keep’s main hall screaming as she flung spells behind her, hoping they hit their mark. So undignified. Yet they still called her _Champion_.

But despite all of that, and despite the pirate nearly jumping ship and leaving her saddled with a horde of infuriated Qunari, Hawke was perhaps more than a little smitten with her; okay, _a lot_ smitten.  After all, Isabela _had_ come back; because of her; _for_ her. It was reassuring at least, that the pirate seemed to feel the same way too. However, that wasn’t enough to stop Hawke’s insecurities from showing through on occasion, escaping her usual sarcastic mask.

Isabela was used to a certain _type_ and Hawke really was _not_ that. She had always feared Bela would leave her again if she ever spied something she liked the look of more. As a result, Hawke had felt pressured to perform in the bedroom, to _make_ her stay somehow; Isabela had never voiced any such thoughts, had not asked for _more._ Until now.

“Hey?” Isabela said, pulling her out of her thoughts. “It’s just a game, kitten.”

Hawke gave her a weak smile. She _could_ tell her no. She could tell her that she wasn’t a risk taker and that Isabela should leave if that’s what she wanted. But the thought of Isabela leaving again was too painful. “Alright. But it goes both ways. You give me a dare, I give you a dare. Three each. Make them count, Curves.”

Isabela smirked. “Oh that’s a guarantee, sweetness.”

Hawke took up her drink and through it back in a go; liquid courage seemed like a good idea considering the first dare Isabela had just given her. Begrudgingly, she got to her feet and went to stand near the door. She crossed her fingers behind her back, praying to the damned Maker that the next person to walk in wouldn’t be a stinking pig of a man. What she got instead was far, far worse, however. Her first real heartbreak walked in. Her eyes widened as she spotted the white haired elf, and he stopped dead in his tracks, just as startled to see her as she was him. She made a small whimpering sound and then swallowed down her apprehension, and went for it.

She grabbed the plate of his armour and pulled him in for a kiss. To say he was startled would be an exaggeration, he was frozen in place for what seemed like an eternity, until _finally_ his hands slid around her waist and he returned the kiss. She was glad he wasn’t pushing her away in disgust; that was _something_ , at least; _progress_ even… perhaps. She had forgotten his intoxicating taste – okay – that _may_ have been a lie. She would never forget his taste. Maker’s arse, he tasted amazing. Just a hint of red wine on his tongue, the dark, delicious taste that was just so _him_ , and the smell of his lyrium igniting from her touch, filling her nose with the scent of spices.

He moaned softly and she found herself slipping her tongue into his mouth – found herself actually _enjoying_ this, even more so knowing that Bela was watching. _Ha! Take that my pirate queen, I_ can _take risks!_ This was a _huge_ risk; Hawke had been pretty sure Fenris hated her the way he had avoided her these past few years, but he hadn’t plunged his fist into her chest, and as his tongue met hers she figured that he didn’t mind any of this all that much…

Isabela folded her arms. She had _not_ expected Mr. _Guess The Colour Of My Smalls_ to walk in through the door when he did. That really had been just _perfect_ timing.  At the sight of him she had been almost _certain_ Hawke was going to chicken out, in which case, Bela would have given her a _very_ yummy forfeit, but the mage had surprised Isabela, Fenris and no doubt herself, by actually going through with it and _kissing_ the elf.

And what a kiss!

If she wasn’t mistaken – and she very rarely was – Hawke was even using tongue with the snow-haired wonder, and as much as Isabela was enjoying the show… she couldn’t help but feel a tiny bit jealous of how well they seemed to fit together, how easily they seemed to lose themselves to one another… Hawke had loved Fenris once; perhaps, deep down, she still did. Had Isabela unwittingly just been the shove they needed to remember how they once felt for one another? _Balls_ , she hoped not. She liked Hawke. A lot. Despite her teasing tonight about Hawke playing it safe, Isabela had never been in a happier relationship. She wasn’t fool enough to think it would last… especially not with Castillon still on her back, hounding her. But for a time it had been _nice._  

She sighed and downed another drink. When she opened her eyes again Hawke was leaning against the bar, smirking. “Your turn, Izzy.”

Isabela stared at her, mouth open for a moment, and then looked around looking for Fenris. “Where-“

“He went to see Varric. I told him it was one of your dares. He understood.”

“That was quite the kiss…”

Hawke blushed slightly. “You’re the one who gave me the dare, don’t complain when I do that dare _well_ , Bels.”

Isabela scoffed and then grinned. “You got one for me, then?”

“Obviously,” Hawke chuckled. “It has come to my attention that your dare may have removed my lipstick… I dare you to put it back on me.” Isabela opened her mouth to comment when Hawke lifted a finger, smiling slyly. “No hands.” Isabela’s eyes widened slightly. “You’ve got quite a mouth on you, time to put it to good use, pet,” Hawke said as she slunk past her and sat back down in her seat, grinning smugly.

Isabela cocked an eyebrow at the mage. “What shade?”

* * *

 

“Hawke! You didn’t mention you’d be _laughing!_ ” Isabela moaned around the lipstick between her teeth.

Hawke snickered again. “I wouldn’t be laughing at all if you’d keep the lipstick on my _lips_.” She then smacked the pirate on the rump, making her jolt. “Mess it up again and there will be a forfeit, Bela. I’d much rather not look like a clown the rest of tonight.”

“Sorry to be the one to tell you this, but –“ Hawke smacked the pirate again and the lipstick smeared up Hawke’s left cheek. Both of them laughed and Hawke wiped down her face for the fifth time.

“ _Again_ ,” Hawke droned on a sigh, a smirk shaping her lips.

“There won’t be any bloody lipstick left at this rate!”

“Don’t you know, Bels? As the Champion I can just shout out ‘I want lipstick!’ in the middle of Hightown and nobles will empty the contents of their purses on the ground at my feet offering me all of their lipwear.”

Isabela rolled her eyes. “Stop talking and let me complete my sodding dare; I’ve got a good one for you next.”

* * *

 

“Remember, sweet thing, no noise. Not a sound. Otherwise you get another _two_ added.”

Hawke chewed on her lip, staring worriedly at the ice cube Isabela now held in her hand. The rogue grinned and then dropped the freezing cold cube of evil down her top. Hawke bit down on her lip hard to stop from squealing as she shuddered violently. The ice cube stopped at her breastband, stuck between her tits. She shivered as the melting water began to trickle down to her stomach, but she managed to stay quiet, much to Isabela’s annoyance.

“Damn. I was hoping for more of a reaction…”

Hawke smirked. “I’m boring, remember, what did you expect?”

Isabela pouted. “I never called you boring, Hawke.” Then she grinned. “And you spoke. Two more cubes for you!”

Hawke’s mouth fell open. “That is _not_ fair! I was replying to you, not reacting to the ice!”

“Rules are rules, precious. Now cough up the ice.”

* * *

 

“ _I_ don’t mind what you use, Corf might, but I will buy him a new one so there’s nothing to worry about there. It’s your choice _what_ you use, though. But do be imaginative, dear; I know you’re rather good at that.”

Isabela peered around the small kitchen, idly running her fingers along several tools. Her eyes landed on something and she smirked before picking it up and showing it to Hawke.

The mage’s eyes lit up at the sight of the pestle. _Of course_ Isabela would pick the most phallic looking object in the kitchen. “Bels, I only asked you to make out with it…”

Isabela grinned at her and gave her a wink. “You also told me to be imaginative, Birdie.”

Hawke scoffed. “I hardly think picking something that resembles a cock is very imaginative…”

Isabela laughed. “It’s not the tool but how you use it, sweet thing.”

And in the privacy of the kitchen Isabela did just that. _Used it_ , quite thoroughly. The poor mortar - which was used to getting pounded by the pestle - was even blushing at the things Isabela did with that now corrupted and scarred pestle.  

Hawke was just as flustered and more than a little aroused. Isabela ended her show with a saucy wink and dumped the pestle back down in the mortar. Hawke would have said something about that being unhygienic, but she entirely forgot about that when Isabela kissed her and lifted her up onto the work top so she could stand between Hawke’s legs, pressed up against her.

“ _Your turn,”_ she said breathily against Hawke’s lips. The pirate’s hands trailed up Hawke’s thighs, pushing her robes out of the way, and feather light touch ghosted over her panties. Isabela sucked in air through her teeth and then smirked. “Your panties are _drenched_ , Hawke. Time to take them off.”

“What? Here?”

Isabela grinned. “That’s your next dare: go commando.”

“But-“

“No buts, Hawke. Off with them. And you have to give your sodden panties to somebody in the Hanged Man.”

Hawke’s mouth fell open. “I can’t do that! I’m the Champion of Kirkwall,” she hissed.

Isabela giggled. “This is your last dare, Hawke. If you don’t do this… the punishment will be quite a bit worse, I promise you.” Hawke folded her arms, pushing her lip out in a darling little pout. “Puppy eyes and that lip won’t work on me, you know that, kitten.”

Hawke huffed and the slid off of the counter and tugged down her panties. “You are rotten,” she muttered to the smirking pirate.

Reluctantly, Hawke walked back through to the Hanged Man’s main room and scanned it for suitable patrons. Really though, none of them were going to be _suitable_ to receive her wet panties, ugh the very thought was just repulsive. She groaned. This was _humiliating_. She did not enjoy humiliation. Not one bit.  Thankfully, with so many stories being spread about her, something like this probably wouldn’t be believed, right?  She never thought she’d be _thankful_ for Varric’s wild tale spinning…

Varric. She could give them to Varric! He _was_ her friend after all, she could probably trust him not to make too big of a deal out of it… and even if he _did_ , his stories about her were so liberally laden with bullshit at this point that it would probably be brushed off as too wild anyway! It was perfect.

With a new sense of purpose, she headed toward the stairs at the back of the common room. It would even be in private! She wouldn’t have to make a spectacle out of this at all. She had just reached the foot of the stairs when –

“I don’t know what to say, Broody, I can see why you’re smelling a rat. It’s whiffy as hell but nothing ventured nothing gained, my broody-friend. Sometimes you just gotta risk it.”

Damn! Not only was then dwarf half way down the stairs but Hawke had completely forgotten about Fenris having gone back to see him! She quickly made an about face to try and pick another target but –

“Hawke!” Came Varric’s voice from right behind her, and she was forced to turn and acknowledge him or risk being uncommonly rude, her sodden panties still clutched in her hand. “I hear I missed the show earlier,” the story teller said with a grin and a sly wink at the elf who had followed him down the stairs.

Oh well, she was already in this up to her neck; might as well get her hair wet.

“Here. For you, they’re mine,” she muttered, fighting the blush that was trying to set her cheeks on fire. Varric cocked an eyebrow at her before hooking a corner of the waded-up fabric on a finger and lifting it up to reveal her smalls for just what they were. Both the dwarf and elf’s eyes got hugely round and Hawke’s face erupted in a spectacular blush to see just exactly how wet Isabela’s little show with the pestle had left the cloth.

“That’s very generous of you, Hawke,” Varric said, his tone dead even, but clearly trying not to laugh if his face was anything to go by. Mortified by the entire situation, Hawke just nodded to them and hurriedly brushed passed them, eager to get to Bela’s room and away from the entire situation. 

Isabela was positively choking on her laughter at the look on Varric and Fenris’ faces upon discovering just exactly what it was Hawke had given the storyteller. Honestly, it was priceless! If only there had been and way to preserve that moment for all of time. She was immensely proud of her little kitten.

But then, Hawke, may not have been the most adventuresome of people, but she certainly had proven that she never back down from a challenge.  As she followed her red faced lover up the stairs she heard Varric behind her say, “I don’t suppose you’d like to keep these huh, Broody?” She glanced back over her shoulder to see the warrior’s response, just in time to see a rather pink cheeked Fenris shake his head somewhat violently.

“You sure?” asked the dwarf one last time before pocketing the little bundle of fabric at the elf’s second vehement refusal.

Grinning, she turned the corner, just as she heard Fenris ask, “What are you doing?”

“Well, she did give them to me. Wouldn’t want to see a gift like that go to waste now, would we?”

Isabela burst out laughing and nearly stumbled as she entered her room; she found Hawke glaring at her, arms folded.

“It is _not_ funny!” she cried, red in the face and sounding totally humiliated.

Isabela tried to stop her snickering. “Oh sweet thing! Varric _kept_ them!”

Hawke’s mouth fell open and that delicious blush on her cheeks went all the way up to the tips of her ears.

“Oh _Maker_ ,” Hawke groaned as she buried her face in her hands.

“If it makes you feel any better, he offered them to Fenris first…”

Hawke’s head snapped up to her, the colour draining from her face completely. “ _He didn’t!?”_

“He really did, sweetness,” Isabela said with a smirk.

Hawke collapsed onto the bed, a hand over her face as she let out a long drawn out groan. “I’ll never hear the end of this. That’s it. I’m done. I can’t be the Champion anymore. We need to leave. Right now. Pack your things!”

Isabela laughed. “Oh pet, don’t worry about it; they’ll have forgotten all about the dares by morning!”

“That’s not the point, it might have _just_ been a dare-“ Hawke moved her hand away from her face and sat up slowly, a smirk beginning to shape her lips. “Wait. _I_ still have a turn left!” Isabela’s eyes widened and Hawke started to grin at her. “Vengeance is mine!” she practically crowed.

“Now Hawke-“

“Not another word, Isabela,” Hawke growled as she hopped off of the bed and bolted the door shut behind Isabela before she shoved the pirate onto the bed. “Now it’s _my_ turn,” she purred. She headed to the pirate’s draws and rummaged through them until she found what she wanted.

Isabela’s eyes widened at the sight of the rope in the mage’s hands. Hawke gave her a smirk, those blue eyes of hers seemingly darkening. “You want me to take more risks, Bela? To be more exciting. To liven things up? How’s this?”

She pinned the pirate to the bed and then tied her arms above her head and tied them to the headboard. The pirate was watching her with dark eyes and parted lips, panting slightly; apparently this was _exactly_ the kind of thing the ship captain liked. Well good, thought Hawke. She could do this kind of thing more often… She lead her merry band of misfits all of the time, she could lead in the bedroom once in a while… it wasn’t _that_ daunting. Except it was when it was a sex goddess you were trying to pleasure, to please, to _sate_.

Hawke stared down at the panting pirate with a sheepish little smile on her face; Isabela was quite the sight, spread and bound on the bed before her, but she was wearing far too much still. Hawke perched on the bed and ran her fingers over the rogue’s dusky thighs, smiling when the rogue shivered from her touch. She reached Bela’s boots and very slowly began undoing each and every buckle and lace.

“ _Hawke_ ,” Isabela said, sounding frustrated. “They’re just boots. Tug the damn things off!”

Hawke smirked. “Have I not told you of my boot fetish, Bels? I have an entire room _full_ of the things at my estate and I spend _hours_ every night polishing, cleaning and stroking them.”

Isabela rolled her eyes, smirking. “Bullshit you do. You’ve never bloody cared about shoes until this sodding moment!”

Hawke flashed her a grin. “I have them ordered by colour and style…”

“ _Ugh_.”

Hawke chuckled. “I thought you liked shoes, Isa.”

“ _I do_ , but right now I know that they’d look better on the floor.”

“Not very patient, are we?”

Isabela huffed. “Well if you just got on with the damn task, instead of pussyfooting around with my boots-“

Hawke smacked the pirate on the thigh, making Bela hiss and her eyes bulge. Hawke stared down at the slightly red mark on her leg with a strange kind of awe, still feeling the sting from it on her hand, radiating across her skin. She had never smacked the pirate that hard, and certainly not while Isabela was all tied up, completely at Hawke’s mercy.  

“ _I’m_ in charge,” Hawke asserted. “And there will be no more backtalk from you, wench.”

Isabela’s eyes visibly darkened at that, her pupils blow wide as a smirk shaped those plump lips of hers. “What about forwardtalk?” Isabela purred.

Hawke opened and closed her mouth and Isabela’s smirk grew wider. “I want you to yank my boots off. I want you to rip my shirt so hard my tits spill out, and then I want that sweet little mouth of yours to suck on my nipples until I’m mewling with pleasure.”

Hawke recovered her wits quickly and chuckled. “I’m going to have to gag you too, aren’t I?”

“Second drawer,” Isabela chuckled.

Hawke laughed and opened up the draw, her eyes widening like dinner plates at the assortment of toys before her eyes.

“Oh did I say _second_ , my mistake. I meant the first drawer,” Isabela said, sounding not in the least bit apologetic.

Hawke stared down at a strange looking thing, it looked like a pearl necklace except the pearls got larger and larger along the chain. She picked it up and glanced at the rogue. “Do I even want to know?”

Isabela smirked. “Oh that’s a lot of fun.”

Hawke crinkled her nose and put it back down, she then lifted up a contraption that she could only liken to a bear trap, it had teeth and everything. “What in the Void is this for!?”

Isabela laughed. “Oh sweet thing, there is so much you still need to learn. Untie me and I’ll teach you.”

Hawke put the scary looking device back in the drawer and opened the top drawer, pulling out a simple ball gag and then walked back to the bed. “Not tonight, Bels. We’re playing by _my_ rules now.” She pushed the ball into Bela’s mouth and buckled the straps at the back of her head.

“ _Much_ better,” Hawke mused. “I could get used to seeing you like this, and the silence is rather pleasant too.” Isabela tried to argue but the cold metal ball in her mouth rather effectively shut her up. She was completely at Hawke’s mercy, and in truth, she had no idea what to expect from the mage, and that sent a thrill through her. It was rare for her to not be able to read someone, to anticipate their next move. And here she was bound and gagged on a bed with a smirking mage with a point to prove. How did she get herself into these messes? Oh right, her big mouth. A good thing she was gagged now, then.

Hawke prowled around the edge of the bed and then tugged off both of Isabela’s boots in one go. She then tied Isabela’s ankles to the bed posts, rendering the pirate unable to move. Hawke smiled smugly, and then reached down and ripped open Isabela’s shirt, so that those gorgeous breasts of hers spilled out. The pirate arched a brow at her and probably would have smirked too, if she were able. Hawke shrugged and smiled impishly.

“What? It wasn’t a _bad_ idea… nor was the next part you suggested,” Hawke whispered seductively as she knelt on the bed next to the pirate.

She ran her hands up the pirate’s side, and then up and over the curve of her breast. Due to the pirate having her arm’s tied above her head, her breasts were perky and perfectly round, and Hawke couldn’t resist giving them a gentle squeeze. Isabela’s tits had always been a source of wonder and jealously for Hawke; Hawke’s own breasts were half the size of Bela’s, and generally weren’t as responsive to touch and play. But she _did_ enjoy playing with the rogue’s bosom.

She leaned down and trailed soft, almost-not-there kisses over the dark plump skin, Isabela arched her back into Hawke’s touch, so Hawke pulled back and smacked her thigh again, leaving a lovely matching red mark on her other leg. She then took one of the pirate’s nipples into her mouth, and sucked as her hands came to grope the other swollen mound, pinching the pebbled nipple between her finger and thumb. Isabela was moaning, though it was muffled by the gag. Hawke swirled her tongue around the dark circle of skin before sucking valiantly on the pert little bud.

Hawke had to admit, she rather liked this. She had thought it would be entirely one sided, that she wouldn’t really get much pleasure herself, only the joy of pleasing her partner. But she was wrong. She had never been so turned on, and she was having _fun_ taking the lead in the bedroom for once. After Fenris, her confidence had been knocked, and she much preferred to let Bela take charge. But this… this was _nice_. She could decide the pace, the spot to tease and touch, and the pirate was obviously enjoying it too, the way her chest heaved, her skin flushed and her body shuddered under Hawke’s soft touches.

Hawke ripped Bela’s panties, next, and gathered the lace fabric in her hands, with a coy smile at the rogue, she lifted the undergarment to her nose and inhaled; Isabela’s hips bucked and a long drawn out groan sounded from deep in the pirate’s throat.

Hawke chuckled. “You smell _so_ good, Bels.”

She slid her fingers up through Bela’s dripping wet folds and moaned. “And you’re so very wet. Would you like me to lap up the mess you’re making down here?” The pirate bucked her hips into Hawke’s hand, moaning again, eyes pleading. Hawke grinned and tossed the panties to the ground. “Not yet, I’m not done with these,” she said as she straddled the rogue’s waist and went back to kissing and licking the full breasts jiggling below her. She buried her head in them with a contented hum. “Oh, Bela… I could just fall asleep here. They’re so comfy!” She was pretty sure the pirate growled in response, those brown eyes of hers furrowed angrily. Hawke laughed. “Fear not my pirate queen, I won’t do that… again, at least, not in the middle of sex,” she laughed.

Hawke hopped off of the pirate’s body and moved to crouch between her legs instead. That first taste always made Hawke shudder with want; Isabela was the sweetest and darkest of tastes. She slid her tongue up through her glistening folds, and let her tongue flick across the hooded nub of nerves, unsheathing it, before she took it into her mouth and sucked on it hard. Bela ground her hips against Hawke’s mouth, her body writhing on the bed, struggling against her restraints. Hawke released the delicious little pearl, instead dipping her tongue deep into the pirate’s quivering centre. She wiggled her tongue in deeper, then curved it upwards to run it along the rough flesh hidden there; Isabela squirmed, hips jolting upward in response and Hawke moaned into her wet folds, savouring the taste, the smell, the feel of the pirate helplessly lying beneath her.

She got into a good rhythm, her tongue plunging in deep and then sliding back out with a flick across that wonderful little spot as her nose rubbed against Isabela’s swollen pearl. When Isabela got too close, too soon for Hawke’s liking, she would slide her tongue up her folds to swirl around that little nub, ever so slowly, too slow to give her any kind of release and then back down to her core. The pirate was making more noise than ever, clearly frustrated at being denied orgasm, and completely unable to resolve the situation herself. Hawke liked this. _Really_ liked it. She had been submissive, unwilling to take risks because she was afraid, she had put herself out there with Fenris only for him to walk away in the middle of the night, but this made her insecurities disappear. To have Bela tied up like this, there was something so sexy and primal about it, and there was security too; Bela _couldn’t_ leave her, not like this.

Hawke griped the pirate’s quivering thighs and finally stayed at a pace that saw the rogue coming undone, bucking violently upward, a muffled cry drowned out by the gag. Hawke lapped up the delicious cream, smiling smugly. She wiped her mouth and then looked up at the pirate, the smile on her face falling as she noticed Bela no longer had the gag in her mouth, no longer had her hands tied at all.

“How-“

Isabela smirked. “Sweet thing, my hands have been untied for _ages_.” She was panting heavily, a grin on her face, those ever changing eyes of her dark and mischievous. “Now it’s _my_ turn.”

Two quick flicks from her wrists had her legs unbound too and then Isabela lunged at her, throwing her back onto the bed with a laugh; the pirate stared down at her, brown hair loose and wild around her beautiful face, cheeks flushed as a grin spread across her luscious lips. “I’m going to make you scream, Hawke.”

And scream she did.

She lay breathless, curled up against her pirate lover, a huge smile on her face. “That was…”

Isabela pulled her closer, running her hands through her hair. “Perfect,” she whispered.

Hawke sighed contentedly. “Thank you for making me take a few risks, Bels. I needed that.”

Isabela smirked against Hawke’s head. “Well, it wasn’t _entirely_ for you that I did it.”

Hawke chuckled, that sweet, melodic sound Isabela had come to love. “I hope… well, I’ve always been worried that I wouldn’t be enough for you. So if you want more of that, or me to… use those, uh, toys, of yours, then I’ll do it. I’ll be more adventurous for you and I’ll-“

Isabela cut her off with a kiss, when she pulled back she stared down at Hawke with a slight frown. “Ugh, are you really gonna make me say it, at this hour in the morning?” she groused. Hawke stared up at her with her own little frown. “I’m… I’m not going to leave you, Hawke. I came back for _you_ after the Qunari. I stayed with _you_. I am here with you now. I’m not going anywhere. And after last night’s little show, even if Castillon teamed up with a new Arishok, the Divine, the Archon and all of Kirkwall it wouldn’t make me leave you again.” Hawke’s face broke into a goofy smile and Isabela groaned. “Stop that. I’m trying to have a serious conversation with you but it’s hard to do that when you’re grinning like a damned fool.”

Hawke laughed, open and free, a weight lifted from her shoulders. “Oh Bels.” She pulled the pirate down for another kiss, hugging her tight.

Isabela blushed and then cleared her throat. “So you better not go making me look a fool by running off with any white haired elves, now,” she half-joked.

Hawke looked up at her with a sympathetic smile. “You think I’d do that to you?” she quietly asked.

“Balls. I don’t know. No. But… well, you _did_ care for one another, once. And after that kiss-“

Hawke cupped her cheek. “I won’t tell you I don’t find him attractive. Who doesn’t? But I don’t love him. I am with _you_ , Bels. Only you.”

Isabela smirked. “If you’re still up for a bit of an adventure we could always change that last bit.”

Hawke’s eyes widened slightly. “Have someone else _join_ us?”

Isabela laughed. “Oh Hawke, you’re so cute.”

Hawke snorted. “I’m the Champion of Kirkwall, I am not-“

“Oh shut up and kiss me.”

* * *

 

It was common enough for them to all meet at the Hanged Man in the mornings – or early afternoon as it often was with the dwarf that rather disliked being awoken before midday unless it was worth a sov or two for the inconvenience. Said dwarf was most likely still asleep at this hour, but Fenris had always been a light sleeper and an early riser. He was not certain why he had come here now – at this hour – but he had to speak with Hawke. He wanted to, _needed_ to.

He had come to the Hanged Man the night before to simply speak with the dwarf; instead he had been ambushed by Hawke.He would be a liar as well as a fool if he said that her kiss had not awoken feelings he had attempted to bury, memories he had tried to forget. In that brief moment it was as if that night hadn’t ended as it had. Years of bitterness, of avoiding her, but being unable to leave, years of watching her and the pirate growing closer, years of still not being able to tell her the truth, to tell her his feelings, all of it had all evaporated in that moment, with that single kiss.

Hope had burned through him, and then Hawke had pulled away, apologising profusely, telling him it was a dare to kiss the next person to walk through that door. He had told her it was fine. That she need not apologise. He had gone back to Varric’s suite, distracted and somewhat shaken, and had blurted out what had happened when Varric had enquired after his unusual pallor.

The night had only gotten worse when upon attempting to leave in order that he might retreat back to his mansion and lick his wounds in private, he and the dwarf had encountered Hawke again; this time baring a pair of damp smalls. _Her_ damp smalls; which she had proceeded to give to the dwarf, who had in turn offered them to himself, not once but twice.

He would be lying to say he hadn’t been tempted.

In the end he had resisted, though the thought of that small scrap of intimate clothing remaining in the dwarf’s possession left him feeling distinctly uneasy. That unease, and internal disquiet had haunted him all the way back to Hightown. What should it matter to him if the dwarf kept what Hawke had given to him? He had retreated back to his mansion, and drunk several bottles of wine in an attempt to ignore the uncomfortable possessive thoughts he had no right to, before eventually passing out.

He had awoken frustrated and angry at himself. He had fled _again_. And he realised he needed to tell her, to finally tell her how he felt. But standing in the Hanged Man, watching Hawke and Isabela at the far side of the room eating breakfast together he realised something. All of this time he had denied his feelings for her. Refused to let them rule him. And in doing so he had been blind to the feelings growing between Hawke and the pirate. It was only now that he could admit to himself just how he felt for Hawke that he could see the same emotion written on their faces, in their eyes, their smiles.

Hawke was happy.

And for once, he did not feel bitter or angry. He felt relieved. All he had ever wanted was to make her happy, but he could not. And now she was because of Isabela. He found himself smiling slightly as Hawke laughed loudly at something the pirate said. He could not be with her, but that was acceptable because she had finally found true happiness, and he wasn’t going anywhere. He would remain at her side and try to mend the friendship he had tarnished.

Isabela hopped to her feet and sauntered over to the bar, her eyes caught sight of a very peculiar sight; a _smiling_ broody elf. She quirked a brow at him. “Well, someone’s happy this morning.”

“It must be contagious. That is quite a grin on your face too.” She smirked and then Fenris glanced at Hawke. “Look after her.”

Isabela looked over her shoulder and then back to Fenris. “I will.”

He nodded and turned to leave. “You know, sweet thing,” she said as she caught up to him. “You could always join us sometime.” Her eyes sparkled playfully and he arched a black brow at her.

“I-“

“Not right now. Just… think about it. She still cares about you, and I know you care about her. And I’m _always_ up for some fun.” She winked at him and then sashayed away, leaving the white haired elf staring after her in surprise. A smile touched his lips, and he headed back out the door realising that he no longer needed to speak with Hawke, seeing her with a smile on her face was enough.


End file.
